"So you're telling me I can light a Mega-Slime on fire?"
"Um. Yes and no. See King Slime is basically the little slimes you find here, but bigger and royal. That being said, you'd need a nice supply of torches to light him ablaze, but you should know plenty about that right?"
"Just continue Andrew before I lose any more brain cells."
"My brain is literally a book about this world, you should be gaining brain cells. Besides, I'm not sure how you plan to survive with such a short attention span ."
"It's not my attention span, you just assume I want to burn everything in sight."
"Heh, you mean you don't?"
After a couple hours of climbing and walking, Duke and Andrew had managed to find the entrance to their cave, which was far larger than either remembered. On their way up, they exchanged knowledge of enemies, ores, crafting recipes, and what Duke looked forward to the most, bosses.
Ever since Andrew had brought up the notion of having to fight powerful creatures to become even stronger to Duke, all he could think about was how much slime and wood he needed to save up for his first fight. Maybe he'll look like a giant flaming Petri dish!
Andrew noticed the unsettling grin creeping up on Dukes face, so he snapped him out of whatever evil desires he may be having. "Pretty sure there's a Blood Moon out."
"WHAT?! NOT AGAIN! There's no way two nights in a row is possible! The moon needs its rest too right?!" He started to panic upon remembering the past events, those grotesque, gored creatures shambling towards him for a midnight snack. Sure I'm a snack, hell, I'm a full blown three course meal! Even so, that doesn't make me available to flesh hungry zombies! Andrew stifled a laugh upon seeing his reaction.
"I'm just joking dude! Man it's fun messing with you!" Andrew laughed, Duke looking at him incredulously.
Andrew began to calm his laughing fit enough to tell him, "If you wanted to know if there's a Blood Moon out, just look at the water. For some reason it always changes to blood red during one."
They had just passed over a puddle, and if Duke's memory served, it was a nice deep blue with a gold fish swimming peacefully inside.
Okay, so there's no Blood Moon, I think. But there will still be monsters right? If so, I can devise a plan with Andrew to escape their grasps, whether we run or fight. Mining down here has exposed me to various scuffles, so I feel I should lead the run thanks to the fighting experience. Obviously Andrew is gifted with the bow, so he'll stay in the back sniping any stragglers I may miss. I have some spare bombs, but I may leave those to Andrew to destroy our path, making it harder for us to be chased. Those Demon Eyes would also require attention from Andrew, so stopping and defending would be ideal so to not overwhelm him, but should I build much? I have the blocks if so needed.
While Duke kept plotting their escape from the night, Andrew studied their loot and deduced how much could be used.
This was how he learned, by viewing and thinking. Coming across something new to him was rare, but on the off chance it did happen, it took no time for him to know everything about it.
I'll admit, this is pretty cool, but why do I get the feeling that this isn't normal? Like I'm not supposed to learn this easily? Was I always like this? Did I have another life as an intellectual, known globally for his unique brain power? Or was I a bookworm with nothing much to look forward to?
He let out a breath. Whatever. This place may be terrifying, but at least I'm using what I've got to my advant-guhh?!
Andrew was pulled out of his thoughts by the collar of his shirt having been tugged from the back, locking him in place and slightly choked up.
"ACK! You know, there are better ways to get my attention, right?" He said, rubbing his throat as he turned to Duke. However, his friend seemed to be frozen, with his face steeled in a melting stare.
Then he spoke.
"Something entered the base."
For an old man he was quite agile.
His torn clothes, scratched face, and bruised arms actually showed this, at least when context is provided.
Having woken up in the night, the senior was forced to defend and run from countless bloodthirsty monstrosities with his seemingly endless barrage of throwing knives, weaving under and parrying attacks that nearly ended his short life there. Zombies and Demon Eyes alike, they all fell or escaped mortally wounded from his fleeing assault as he charged through the sparse and randomly spawned hordes.
It's amazing how they keep coming, though simultaneously terrifying as their numbers seem to grow indefinitely! I need to seek refuge, though I have no means to build myself a shelter.
And though this was the case, he wasn't exactly running blindly. Since he awoke, he's felt some attraction into a part of the forest, as if he was being called into existence by some unknown power. And to his surprise, this attraction only grew stronger as he continued his pursuit.
But that was when he saw it.
Leg-numbing running had bore its fruits, as in front of him was a barely visible clearing beyond the countless trees. He couldn't make much, but he saw a torch and a door, which gave him all incentive needed to push harder than he had. This would hurt him in the morning, he knew.
Unfortunately, he was too caught up in his thoughts to make a zombies backside barely poking out of the ground, waiting for him to trip over its rotten corpse.
And trip he did.
For a moment.
He stumbled over the body, but due to his momentum and conditioned shoes, he tore through the back of the beast with surprise before returning to his sprint. As for the zombie, being a paraplegic seemed a peaceful fate, as he no longer worried about the sun catching him off guard from wandering too long. So he dug back down and slept.
Good grief that lad had a strong spine! Though I'd expected it to be stronger, it's rotten nature likely contributed to the reduced strength. Even so, I could feel something pop within my ankle. Is that blood? Ah, there ahead!
Having cleared the forest, he ran into a moonlit field and was welcomed by a breeze that caressed his aching body.
However, he couldn't feel at peace now, as he did not want a repeat of what recently had happened. Rather, he sped through the grass with unmatched haste and an eagerness to rest, trampling flowers and bugs in his path.
Then he reached the wooden door, some light shining through the small window on its frame. Tempted to look inside, he knocked three times with a calm demeanor, completely opposite of how he felt earlier.
Then he kicked it open and slammed it shut.
No use in knocking if the door isn't locked.
Stepping away from the door, he slid against the wall next to it and let himself collapse momentarily. Even if he had just awoken, he was sure he had never pushed himself as hard as he did.
For a wood box, it is somewhat cozy. Perhaps the owner planned to stay a while but had perished under the might of the monsters. A sad possibility, but why would they leave at all? Maybe curiosity had caught them by the throats, or maybe the isolation became unbearable. But that's not it, is it? No, I wouldn't be here if they had passed, I know that. Why then?
His eyes grew heavy, and the temptation of sleep nearly grew unbearable. Even so, he managed to wake enough to begin his rise, agonizingly standing back up to mend his wounds. To do this, however, he needed supplies, and he knew the chests to the left side of the wall had what he needed.
Using his good foot, he planted himself firmly and stood up, using the wall as a support. Once his balance was set, he walked over with a slight limp and opened the chest finding wood, dirt, gel, an absurd number of wooden swords, and much more useless junk.
What a mess. I must tidy this off before I can mend my wounds. Hm, first of all swords with dirt is a recipe for disaster. They become covered and blunt and are overall less effective. These flowers must be used as decor or for some other purpose, otherwise they may wither after such a short life. As for these bunny blankets..?
But while he worked with some mysterious knowledge of how things should stay organized as if he were in a shop, two surface dwellers emerged from a drop in the ground not too far off, retracing their steps back to the newly claimed hut.
Hidden by the trees and the bodies of the dead, both Duke and Andrew crouched near their home, cautious and wary of whoever, or whatever, had entered.
Duke was the first to break the tense silence, answering the question in Andrew's head.
"Look at the dirt in front of the door. Before we left, I mixed some dirt, sand, and gel together and placed them around the house like a trap. Thing is, it's more passive since it's not meant to harm, but rather trap anything that gets caught. And now the steps in the front door have been smeared everywhere messily, indicating something ran through."
All this was proven true, as when Andrew looked closer he saw what Duke had said, and in clear detail at that. In front of the door was a mess of blue gel and dirt, some of it even getting on the walls and some darker stains as well.
Stepping forward, Duke readied his sword and walked carefully toward the home, making sure not to scare the unwanted visitor nor attract any zombies roaming around. Andrew stayed close behind with his bow, preparing an arrow in case things went poorly.
This was a cruel and unforgiving world, and Duke knew this, even with the short time he had been here. From slimes to zombies, he fought and killed whatever crossed his path. Tonight was different, however, as he felt that whatever was inside was different than everything else he'd faced. And still he continued onward with narrowed eyes, clutching his sword harder and taking heavier steps. Behind him, Andrew steeled his nerves and watched the blind spots, preparing for a trap of some sort.
Duke spoke, "Andrew."
He replied, "Yeah?"
"There's blood on the door."
"Wh- How?"
"It seems like an attack took place, and whatever escaped found our place as a suitable resting home."
thump
After having said that and hearing the low sound, both men froze. It sounded as if one carried a supply of items too many at a time and ended up dropping some, much to their displeasure. Even so, the two neared closer, eventually finding the outer walls covered in the blood, near the front door.
thump thump
And now they were on edge. Duke stood outside with his sword ready and Andrew backed a tad bit for a clearer view to aim. Whatever it was that lay inside seemed to have made itself comfortable, as Duke could tell his swords were being flung around the place, and he was not happy. Andrew could only see a barely visible shadow that danced on the walls, showing a pile in its arms. Upon seeing this, Andrew signalled the time to strike as now, and Duke waited no longer.
BAM
The front door was blown off its frame and slammed into the ground with force kicking up some dirt and dust.
As if acting on instinct, the old man jumped behind one of the now-empty chests and propped it up as a shield, arming himself with countless throwing knives.
However, Duke took note of this immediately and picked up the dismantled door, using it as his cover in case something were to go down.
Duke slowly approached with his sword and door at the ready, speaking to the hidden man. "Reveal yourself or die by my blade. Your corpse would burn by the flame of raining arrows as you regret entering here and taking what doesn't belong to you."
Andrew had his bow trembling with power as he was ready to bring down whatever popped out, and much was the same for Duke and his blade.
I have no choice then. I only hope they show mercy.
From behind the chest stood an old man, battered and bruised evident from tangling with the outside forces. His clothes were torn and ripped, his once orange coat having been reduced to a sleeveless shirt with holes and rips throughout the front and back. His long white beard unkempt and dirty, messy white hair on his head, blue pants having been darkened from what seemed like blood stains and bore holes in them.
"I mean no harm, I simply wish to seek refuge." He spoke. In his voice held a certain authority, as if he knew he would live and simply spoke with complete honesty and with a bold tone.
The sword pointed to his face was slightly lowered, as the holder eyed the old man up and down incredulously, unsure of what to make of him. From here, a standoff occurred where both men stared at each other with ferocious intentions. It did, however, take the interference of a certain Guide to break this up.
"Who are you and what did you do to my bed?!" Andrew asked as he pointed to his makeshift bed. In it were pots and plants being grown, some already breaking soil.
"Your bed? Apologies, but I believed you took your bed with you before your unfortunate demise, so I took this spot to tidy your belongings and grow some food." He answered as he took a look at Duke and his sword. So he's an amateur? Then he spoke up.
"Your sword, is it iron? Somewhat of a dull point." He asked.
Duke was taken slightly aback by this, wondering how he knew this and if this was a possible threat.
"Yes, it is. And I've been slaying beasts that have crossed our path, so of course it's blunt." He shot back, keeping his attention on the man.
"Hm, I see. And you are now a professional fighter, able to slay even the mightiest of foes?" The man asked with doubt in his voice and a brow raised.
"Maybe not now, but I don't plan on going about this alone." Duke replied, now hungry for a snack, maybe some mushrooms.
"Then how about this, young man. I will train you in the art of swordsmanship, so long as I may find an accommodated living space. And here, you seem to have enough room." This was his plan, devised as soon as the sword was pointed at his neck. He saw the stance, the form, and the readiness to kill. It was all too green. And he had no damn clue how he knew this. He was already able to counter before he could react, but decided a peaceful approach would be better, especially with his wounds. Not to mention, the archer behind him looked ready to fire at a moments notice.
"You? Train me? No offense, but you seem in on your years to barely stand right, especially with those wounds covering you." Duke scoffed. He was getting impatient with the man, wanting to finish this and go to bed, but a small part of him kept telling him to keep him alive.
"That may seem so, but I can assure you there is still much to learn, and I may show you." He replied.
In the back while the two compromised, Andrew couldn't help but wonder why the man seemed so familiar. It's as if I knew he was supposed to arrive, and yet I don't know who he is or where he came from. Ugh, I'm getting a headache, and this bow is getting heavy. Will the Merchant leave already?!
...
Oh yeah, he's the Merchant.
...
Are they fighting?
Duke suggested a spar to see if the old man really had it in him to survive here. Even if he didn't, he was still going to build him a home since it'd be cruel to leave him to the mercy of merciless zombies.
"Just know I won't hold back. I need to see how fast you'll fall." Duke smirked. Of course I'll hold back, the dude isn't even in a stance. He just has his hands behind his back!
"Hm, if that's what it comes to, then so be it." The Merchant replied. Ah, to be young again... What was it like?
And Duke charged, throwing a left roundhouse aimed for the mans head. He, however, read this a mile away and set up an arm block, tanking the hit and throwing the leg to the side.
"Is that all? I figured you'd had a tad more strength?" He asked with a slight grin.
"Alright, so grandpa has some knowledge of a fight." Duke was caught off guard, but felt somewhat relieved. I would've stopped my kick in time, but he reacted faster than I could. Awesome!
So Duke charged again, aiming to use fists this time. Closing the distance, he sent lefts and rights to the man, aiming to test more than harm. However, with each dodge and block he grew more eager to actually put more effort, and the Merchant saw this, so he too put in his own strikes.
Duke threw a jab, and the Merchant blocked and sent a palm heel strike to the nose. Duke couldn't register the movements in time however, and took the strike straight to the face, stumbling back slightly and clutching his nose.
"Oh dear, I haven't hurt you have I?" The Merchant feigned worry, wanting to see what more Duke had.
"Heh, barely even felt that." Duke grinned, now deciding to try harder than he had before. Punches were blocked, kicks were sent, and nothing ever touched the Merchant, for he read it all and was only slightly impressed by Duke's performance. For an amateur, he knows some basics. However, it's obvious he lacks skill and precision, focusing more on strength and endurance.
As they continued, Andrew watched, slightly worried one of them may end up on the ground, broken both in spirit and body. He had remembered, if you could call it that, who the Merchant was. This was a man who came from the vast lands across the earth, selling, buying, and selling what he bought for profits. One may asks what the point of this was if he never settled down. It's simple, he just enjoyed the travels. His name had been recognized by mostly those he did business with, but even so strangers were simply unmade friends to him. I would stress and worry over why I know this, especially about there being a world of people when there are only us here, but this is too entertaining. And now, the Merchant was juking Duke silly but tiring out slowly.
Thwack
THUD
"Heh.. you're pretty strong for a geezer.." He was panting now, having just been struck in the chest and now flat on his ass. The old man retracted his fist and grinned knowingly, relishing the bout that had occurred.
The Merchant walked over, limping slightly now, and reached out a hand to Duke. "I must say, you have promise young man. Even those zombies and eye creatures couldn't give me that kind of satisfaction."
He helped him up, and they both fell to the floor, lying down exhausted. One had spent their entire day fighting and mining while the other had just woken up and barely escaped certain doom, but both stunk terribly.
Andrew watched this unfold, snacking on a mushroom in the process. He knew how it'd end, but was still curious to see how Duke would react.
"So now that you've had your ass handed, what're you gonna do?"
Catching his breath, Duke spoke out, "First of all, it was a mutual surrender."
"You fell on your ass, young one."
"MUTUAL SURRENDER. Secondly, yeah, I'll give you a home. It'd be wrong for me to leave you out there, and you're cool anyway so that's a plus."
The Merchant chuckled, then thanked him.
"Now then, I suppose introductions are in place?" Andrew suggested. Though he knew bits and pieces of the Merchant, more information would never hurt.
"If I may start, I have been granted this knowledge of being called the Merchant. I specialize in wares to be sold and hold some wisdom over powerful creatures. Furthermore, I hold strength in martial arts of various types, so housing me here is very much a wise choice. You may, however, call me Milton."
Milton Introduced!
"Greetings Mr. Milton, I am known as Duke. From what I've been told by my good friend Andrew here, I am to fight and kill anything that threatens the health of me and any ally I may find. I apologize for my threat earlier, but recent events have put me on edge. I don't really specialize in anything, but I do excel in physical work."
Duke Introduced!
"And I am Andrew, the Guide of this world. I have been granted vast knowledge that seems to know no limits, and it's been used to help this idiot here with crafting weapons to fighting slimes. You may have been able to tell, but ranged weapons such as the bow are where my other strengths lie."
Andrew Introduced!
All characters have beenintroduced!
"A pleasure to meet you both. Now then, where may we rest?" Milton had started to feel the accumulated effects of tonight's events, and he didn't like it.
"Ah, right, my bed is destroyed." Andrew remembered sadly.
"It was made of dirt, dude."
"It was a nice bed!"
"Then shall we carve out spaces?" Milton suggested.
"Hmm, yeah guess that'll work for tonight. I'll get to building your house tomorrow so you don't rot outside." Duke joked.
"I would gladly open the door for the undead while I rest on the rooftop, young one." Milton countered.
I feel like that's my job.. Andrew thought.
Duke stretched, then yawned. He made his way to the corner of the home and cleared some dirt for his bed.
"G'night fellas!"
A/N: Oops.
Ok I've got No Excuses for this lateness, but school is a pain in my Duke. Yes I have procrastinated, and I do apologize, but I'm trying to bring it all together so this doesn't happen anymore. Apart from that, what do you think? I kinda enjoyed this chapter since I tried using feedback to clear things up (thank you Corroded Vortex!). Also thank you to Nanomemes and Guest for the reviews as well! Hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner than this one.
Stay tuned!